


First Time: Perspective

by debil_nyrpocket



Category: Fyr ond Brynstan
Genre: Canon Gay Relationship, First Time, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:22:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24825256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debil_nyrpocket/pseuds/debil_nyrpocket
Summary: Emile has been harboring a deep attraction to Zeke, his partner at work, ever since the first time he laid eyes on him. It's been torture keeping his hands to himself (and not for a lack of trying *wink wonk*), but Emile isn't sure where Zeke's feelings stand; some days he's hot and some days cold, and he always seems to cultivate an ambiguous friend-zone with the people around him. Emile was content to swim in the tepid sea of ambiguity until Zeke's most recent cold spell led to them spending the previous 7 weeks without contact. When a chance reunion at the local pub brings them back into each other's lives, however, neither one of them seems ready to let the other leave the bar alone.
Relationships: Zeke/Emile
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	1. Emile

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short told from two different perspectives!
> 
> Ch. 1 follows Emile’s perspective as he attempts to play this little seduction game one last time, and Ch. 2 features Zeke’s internal monologue recounting his side of the story.
> 
> These are my original characters and this is an event that happens midway through their saga. Some canon events are referenced but not expanded upon. If there is confusion or a request for other expansion shorts, please let me know as it would motivate me to write more!! ^^
> 
> Without further ado - please enjoy!!

It had become lonely now, the office. Those rooms I’d spent centuries designing now seemed unwelcoming and distant, with ghosts of him haunting every corner. I absolutely hated it, being home without him.

For the last few weeks, I’d spent every night away because I couldn't stomach the emptiness. Because he wasn't there, and...

...because I wanted him to be.

Lucky for me, one night, I ran into him at Wine-burh.

Fuck, he was beautiful. The way his bulk tested the integrity of his seams had always left me reeling. And that night was no different. There he was, so completely full of life, all smiles, and oblivious, like there had been no distance between us at all.

I missed him. 

And it seemed like he missed my presence too, for what it was worth. He followed me home after all, like a well-trained dog trailing after its master. Like old times.

As we reached my door, my key trembled, struggling to find its slot, for I was remembering this - our home, together - was no longer his. I didn't want him to leave, not again. I tried to devise excuses, but nothing seemed convincing enough. So I said nothing.

He must have read the mood and known immediately. Without missing a beat, he smiled and placed his hand on my arm. He asked me if I would read to him - if I would read him one of those boring war novels he loved so much. 

I'd have never read a single one if not for him, but my shelves were packed with them now because I knew he would stay longer if I kept buying them. I still had a few he hadn’t even opened.

Yes, of course I would read to him. What did he want to hear?

We found ourselves in the back office, on the old 3-seater couch, what used to be his bed when he lived here, when he lived with me. As I read, I could feel him leaning in, trying to read along with me. The firm muscles of his chest imprinted on my back ever so slightly, but as the night wore on, he sunk ever more gradually until his chin found a resting place in the hollow of my shoulder. Everything was humid from his soft breathing near my neck.

I loved every part of it.

But damn him and his infamous abstinence. How many times had we spent the night wrapped chastely in each other's arms? How many of my advances had he rebuffed without hesitation?

Countless. 

I had never seen a single success, and not for a lack of trying. It seemed he would never be into me, not in the same way I wanted him.

I knew this, but I also knew how confusing he could be. Boundaries changed depending on his moods, and before he'd moved out, we had gotten really close a time or two. And there was that time I heard he'd kissed me - even though Bloodlust rendered me unable to recall the details. How I wished I could remember!

His arms had snaked around me from behind, and we sunk deep into the couch.

By this time, I was no longer reading, distracted and melted by the warmth of his embrace. He didn't seem to mind either, for his thoughts seemed distant and troubled.

What was he thinking?

I, of course, wanted to know, but I was content to never question it. If I did, he might disclose information about his previous lovers - and this game I played would have ended. 

I wanted to keep pretending that, despite all evidence to the contrary, he might like men too, that I still had a chance, that he might want me more than as just a partner or a mentor. I wanted him to notice how attractive and capable I was, how everyone else had wanted me so desperately, how pitiful he’d rendered me that I had the mind to chase after him. In my dreams, he would rip me from the arms of my paramours and declare his unyielding love for me.

That fantasy was enough to keep my excitement around him alive, and it didn't matter whether it was true or even possible.

It was ok if it wasn't. I'm a big boy.

But I couldn't stop myself from wanting him. The hopelessness of me fucking him was a game that brought me endless entertainment, and I desperately wanted to touch him. Skin to skin. Flesh to flesh. I started imagining what it would feel like if he touched me too.

My mind began playing cruel tricks on me. I imagined his fingers lacing themselves around mine. And I was elated, even if it were just my own fantasy.

But then...

“Your hands are so cold,” he whispered almost breathlessly.

And that’s when I realized it wasn't my imagination at all. We were indeed holding hands, something we had never done before. The realization was electrifying.

I turned and met his golden eyes, still glittering in that dim light. I tried to hold my composure when I noticed the concern weighing on his brows. He wanted an answer.

I told him frigidity of my hands was a side effect of my abilities - to drain blood. Nothing to worry about, I assured him. After all, I was used to it.

His palms were so incredibly warm, so distractingly so, in fact, that I hadn't noticed he'd changed positions. He was now hovering above me. 

“Of course, I’d worry. Here,” he said, placing my frigid palms against the torrid flesh of his abdomen. “I've got enough heat for us both.”

It took a moment to register what was happening. This was Zeke, after all, so I tried my best to push all my lecherous thoughts away - but one would not be quieted. He’d left me completely open. Did he also enjoy when I played the game?

If not, how silly was he to do this. I didn't need his help - I knew plenty of ways to get blood moving. Had our extended separation made him forget how much I craved him, how much I loved to test his limits? How far could I go this time, Zeke? Where was the line tonight? 

My thoughts raced as my fingers inched down his chiseled abdomen until they tucked themselves ever so slightly under the hem of his pants, searching for the forbidden source of his warmth. I lingered there in celebration of my progress, elated from what little was discovered in this latest expedition.

His gentle fingers lighted upon my wrist as my usual signal to stop. Game over. I knew I could go no further, and I resigned myself to defeat immediately, laughing internally. _Of course he would stop me._ He always did. It was only a matter of when and how.

As I attempted to draw my hand away, his fingers stiffened, keeping it in place.

“Why…” he began, a tremble working into his voice, “... are you hesitating?”

It was then that I questioned the unthinkable. Was Zeke attempting to seduce me? Was that really what he was saying?

His eyes turned up at me. They were dilated - a thin rim of yellow surrounding a vast depth of black. I'd never seen his eyes like that.

His breath rushed my cheeks. “Am I doing something wrong?” He said. I sensed a hint of fear, of disappointment. It was precious.

So that’s when I knew. 

He wanted me too.

Realizing this, I saw no reason to hold back. My hands moved upwards and grabbed his face faster than I ever thought possible. I wanted to show him how much I wanted him. I wanted to prove that breaking his vow of chastity would be worth it, because it was with me. 

Because. 

_I am worth it, Zeke._

I didn't give myself time to breathe because I knew how fast he could turn cold, how quickly he could cut someone off and move on. I know what happened with that human girl. With Glass. But that wouldn't be me tonight. Tomorrow, maybe, but not tonight.

I drank him in, promising to myself that if this were my only chance to do so, I would take everything he was willing to give me.

Being totally inexperienced, he fumbled a lot, and I found him all the more endearing. 

Don't worry, Zeke. I'll teach you everything, I thought as I rose to straddle him. 

We kissed here until we were shirtless, and my hands were left free to explore his body once again. They traced themselves all the way downwards, and I began to remove his pants, pulling to loosen the cords of the drawstring.

Would he stop me this time?

I waited but not inactively. My tongue searched the depths of his mouth.

To my delight, he moved my wrist downwards until my fingers brushed the start of his happy trail. My fingers wove themselves into the thick hair there, appreciating this gift. 

He nudged my elbow, encouraging me to dive deeper.

I slid deeper until I found the rise in his pants. I tested its length with my middle finger, moving slowly enough to give him a final chance to change his mind.

Was this it? The line?

His pelvis shifted, raising himself into my hand fully.

He wanted me to touch him. 

I came alive.

My lips traveled down his skin as fast as my hands took to remove the rest of our clothes. I took him into my mouth, something I had yearned to do from the first day I'd met him.

Let me show you, Zeke, that you won't regret this. I won't be a mistake, I told him wordlessly as I worked.

He squirmed, catching breaths more quickly now than he had before. But from a few upward glances, I noticed his glowing eyes were focused on me and had been watching all of my movements. 

It was slightly unnerving.

Was I not good enough to take him out of the moment? Nonsense. I was perfect. Or was I? I paused to find out.

Before any word could form on my lips, I found myself flipped onto my back as his lips now ran over my body. Kissing turned to licking, licking to biting. I struggled under his weight, unable to move except for however he willed me to. It was thrilling and euphoric.

When I could handle no more, I lured him downwards and put his hands on my dick. He kissed it without further prompting. Good boy, Zeke. A fast learner.

But totally inexperienced. Pleasure became pain rather quickly.

Softer, please. You're doing fine, just a little softer, I told him. He obliged dutifully.

I could do a lot with this, with him, if we got another chance. I began planning our romance in between breaths. 

I would keep him, if he'd have me.

I started quivering, knowing I was approaching my limit. No, it wasn’t time yet - there was still so much more left to do. I tried to stall. I told him it was my turn again, that I wanted to taste him now. _This is too much_ , I cried. _Let me kiss you_ , I begged. 

But he wouldn't answer my pleas with any form of mercy. Something sharp dug into my hips and thighs, and I cried out momentarily, stifling my voice with my palm. 

He was transforming.

His black claws climbed up my torso. I watched his shoulders expanding several sizes larger. I gasped as the ridges of his mouth shifted around my dick, his pointed teeth growing and ever so precariously hovering over my delicate flesh. 

And I noticed his glowing eyes watching me.

If I had been anyone else, I would have found this monstrous form terrifying or repulsive. Instead, a monster myself, I grew ever madder with lust.

Berserker showed its face only when Zeke was losing control. I was making him lose control. No, I too was losing control.

His jaws widened as his elongated tongue wrapped itself around me, and when it was out of dick, it snaked its way towards one of my thighs. I wished it to explore me further.

It didn’t though. No matter. Next time. I was sure there would be a next time now. There would have to be. I was finished.

My wings broke the skin, and I relinquished everything to him.

For a minute, he was stunned. He moved away with a mouthful, reverse transforming into his beautiful human self. He was licking his lips, tasting what I'd given him.

I reached for him. He really was taking all of this so well, and even though he'd exhausted me, I wanted to reward his efforts. His eyes closed as he leaned into my touch.

I traced the contour of his jaw. I could feel the muscles tensing beneath the skin. He moved in closer and pressed the entire length of our bodies together. We breathed there together and studied each other wordlessly. 

I don't do relationships. 

Having a steady sexual partner is nice, but I've never wanted the other hassles that come with relationships. But in that moment, I found I'd changed my mind.

There would be a next time. I wasn't a mistake. He wanted this. I’d made sure of that.

Any worries I'd had were alleviated when his lips caressed my neck again. His fingers rose to catch my hair at the nape. And then he tugged firmly, sensually, bending my head backwards.

Oh yes, I could do so much with this. He was clumsy and shy, but he had potential. My instinct was right after all.

It was clear neither of us wanted this to end. One of his hands pressed on my hip, pulling me in closer.

Oh, honey, I know, I thought. I wanted that too, but there were other things we needed first. I asked him to wait. 

The weight of his hand lifted, resigned to a bout of kisses traveling down my spine. But there, in the center of my back, the frequency of kisses petered out. His face pressed into my back and his breathing deepened.

I truly began to worry then. I asked him if something was wrong.

His arms wrapped around my body, desperately. Needy.

“Don't ... don't leave me,” he said, with the same trembling voice that started this all.

I was speechless for a moment. 

That's what he was afraid of, that I'd cast him aside at the end of this?

No, Zeke. You are the one who ensnared me first. You have to take responsibly for that.

I laughed off my embarrassment. How could he say this after all we'd been through together? 

“I wouldn’t dare,” I answered.

“-I love you.”

Finally one of us had said it.

I couldn't breathe. I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks. I knew what those words meant to him. They were his everything, his reason for existing, and now he was saying them to me.

“I… love you too.” 

It sounded so foreign coming out of my mouth. I believe it is the only time I've ever uttered those words to anyone.

And… I meant them.

We kissed for a long time before I snuck away to the bathroom, where I kept my lube. 

We were going to do this and do it right.

I caught myself in the mirror for a brief moment. I found bite marks and scratches all over my body, my trophies from lovemaking gone right. I promised I would teach him how to leave hickies too.

I laughed to myself. A changed man stared back at me in that mirror, radiating ecstasy.

Yes. I would keep him. Forever.

We fucked after that. You don't need to know those details. 

But you do need to know that...

… Zeke is mine.


	2. Chapter 2: Zeke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeke tries something he's never done before~

7 weeks. Well. 51 days to be exact. That’s how long it’s been since I moved out on my own. 

Or should I say, since you moved me out.

I didn’t want to go. Not really. I only did it because I thought it was what you wanted. I thought you wanted more privacy, more freedom, like how you lived before I showed up in your life and fucked up everything. I had burdened you long enough, and since there was no logical reason for me to keep living like a parasite on your back, I thought it was time.

But I’m still a parasite, aren’t I?

You’d even found the place for me. I didn’t pay a dime for it. And I still haven’t. No one will even tell me how much you paid.

You are always doing things like that. Taking care of me. From the shadows.

I’m trying to be independent. I’m trying. I am. 

But honestly, I don’t see a point in it. If I’m a fuckup when I’m around people and also a fuckup on my own, I’d rather not be alone.

I’m so tired of being alone.

But I’m trying to give you space. I don’t go to Wine-burh during the times I know you’re there. Actually, I don’t go very often at all, just grab booze from the corner store and drink it in my room. It’s shit, but at least I know I’m not causing you problems anymore.

I don’t want to cause you any more problems.

But I’m here tonight. The emptiness of my room was stifling, and after that fiasco with Nami and whoeverthefuck, I just can’t stand being there. Her scent is everywhere, and all it does is remind me that I’m shit for expecting you to clean up my messes.

Fuck. I don’t want to think about it. I just want to get shitfaced tonight. 

The bartender looked all too happy to see me. The way he said your name made me mad, like I can’t come here on my own, like he knew something about you that I didn’t know. I wanted to deck him for talking about you in that tone. It was probably the first time I heard your name in three weeks.

Glass doesn’t talk about you either. Lately, it’s all about me - what am I going to do now, how long I plan on staying in Wynburh, if I want to travel to see the ruins of Edel, get some closure, blah blah blah. She’s been tiptoeing around my feelings for far too long, and honestly I’m just ... tired.

Did you know we kissed? I’m sure she told you. Did she also tell you it was shit? I’m so stupid. Just looking anywhere for comfort.

Add another fuck up to the list.

You were right. It’s pointless to think about the past.

I’d ask the bartender for another drink, but I’m still mad about how he talked about you so casually. You deserve more reverence than that. Should I fight him? I want to.

Instead, I empty the last sip from my glass and signal for him to put it on my tab. I can’t stay here any longer. That shit-eating grin on the bartender’s face is way too punchable for me to wait for a receipt.

When I stand, though, my mood immediately shifts. You’re here. I can smell you.

I whip around as you walk through the door, and a host of scents enter with you. You’ve just come from a walk around town, window-shopping when all the stores are closed. I know because the smell of the office is distant and stale on your coat, because you were sweating lightly on your stroll. You smell like iron.

I know it’s not from your sword though - it’s from your hands. The smell of blood doesn’t wash away so easily.

I used to hate that, but now… but now it comforts me.

I can’t control my expression - I know I’m beaming like a fool. I am so excited to see you. It’s been three weeks too long.  
Before you’ve properly entered the building, I’ve already rushed over to you. I feel pathetic, but it’s you. Why would I do anything different?

You coolly brush me off and remove your coat. I remember that we’re just colleagues now. Acquaintances. Strangers. That’s not good enough, though, Emile. I saved your life. But you don’t remember that, do you? No, of course you don’t. You were unconscious, and I was so scared.

I touch my lips, remembering what I did, what you can’t remember. I remember how good it felt and why I knew the kisses with Glass and with Nami were off. I think…

_I think I love you._

And - you don’t have to love me back! I just don’t want to be forgotten or cast aside so easily. My heart is breaking just thinking about it. I just want to be next to you. And I just want to come home. 

Will you let me come home?

We talk all night. You’re just as cool as always - until you stand to leave. I can tell something is different. Your energy is different. You’re trembling. No one else would be able to tell, but I know you too well.

I don’t draw attention to it because I know how much you go out of your way to avoid looking weak. It’s better I pretend everything is fine. I decide to follow you just in case though. It’s the very least I can do to repay you for everything you’ve done for me.

I know I shouldn’t follow you all the way, that I should give you space, but I can’t help it. I find myself leaning on the outer wall of the office. We are still talking when I notice you are fumbling with the key.

What’s wrong, Emile? Fuck, I wish you would tell me. Or invite me in. I can’t leave you like this.

I suddenly remember how you used to read to me. It’s the perfect excuse. That way, you can keep looking so cool, and I’ll be the desperate fool, like usual.

You accept and invite me in. Your key is suddenly much steadier, and it unlocks the door with ease. We go in. You pull a book from the shelf and open up to the last place we left off.

You remembered better than I did.

We sit on the couch. My couch. In my room. In our home. 

I’m sorry… It’s only your home now. I’m trying to get it right.

That’s stupid though. Everything is still the same, right where I left it. I get lost in the smells - the stench from the filing cabinets, the wood from the walls, the dusty rug on the floor, and you - all iron and expensive cologne. You changed the serum you use in your hair. I like this one better. It smells more natural, but I’d like anything you chose because it was you who chose it.

I am more drunk on your aromas than from the alcohol, but smelling them passively isn’t enough. I want to be closer. So I do exactly that. 

I don’t know where you are on the page, but I pretend to follow along by looking over your shoulder. Actually, I never learned to read in this language. Hell, I only liked those encyclopedias for their pictures. But I love listening to you read. Your voice is rich and smooth, and it comforts me.

When you bought the whole set for me, I realized what kind of person you actually were underneath all the fanfare. You are selfless and thoughtful. 

Beautiful.

Fragile.

I don’t know why you don’t show that part of yourself more often. It makes me want to protect you. I wonder how many countless others feel the would feel the same.

_I love you. I’d die for you, Emile._

We sink together on the couch. 

I haven’t said a word since we walked in through the front door. I’ve just been breathing you in, feeling at home now that I’m next to you. This is where I should be - in this office, on this couch, laying next to you. I watch your lips moving from the corners of my eyes. I want to kiss them so bad.

But how do I do approach this? How do I show you my feelings?

Your lips stop moving, and I notice you’re no longer reading. Are you tired? Is it too late for me to make a move now?

What am I thinking - I’ve already fucked this up by pushing you away so many times. Maybe you think I don’t want you. That is not true - I just… I... I know I should just tell you the truth about why I abandoned that last mission, but I’m not ready to talk about it yet. I may never be.

It’s hard to let go of something when you’ve carried it all these years. 

I guess it’s all pointless now though. What do people usually do when their dreams get shattered? 

Well. I don’t know about other people, but I fuck up. Clearly.

But I don’t wanna fuck up this time. I think about kissing you again, but I let it pass. That would be so out of place for me, wouldn’t it? Because you are always the one approaching me. Should I wait for you to put your hands on me, or should I surprise you?

No… I can’t do that. I don’t know the first thing about seduction. About sex. I think about your body, and I’m not sure what to do with it. But I’m willing to learn.

I feel my temperature rising. I’m lightheaded. I don’t know what the right thing to do is, but I’m done waiting. I am drunk on your smells, and your smooth voice is still echoing in my ears.

Enough of this. I’ve decided. I like being with you. It can be simple like that, right? 

Since you’re not doing anything, I’ll make a move.

I take your hands. They are shockingly cold. You aren’t reacting. I say something to get your attention. It’s about your hands. Fuck. I am an idiot.

You reply, but my own heart is thumping in my ears. I can’t hear a thing. I’m just trying to think of what to do next. My body is burning. Your hands are ice. If I put them there, you’ll know what I’m trying to tell you.

You do. No, no… actually, you don’t. I’m trying to say I’m yours tonight! I came here because I wanted to be with you. Should I say it explicitly?

Oh! I shouldn’t have doubted you. You… are a master. Your hand slides down my body effortlessly. I think I’m going crazy because I’ve never felt so excited. I’ve never wanted someone to touch me like this before. I-

 _What?_

Why did you stop? 

“Why... are you hesitating?” The words actually come out. I am so embarrassed.

You look bewildered, so I try to elaborate. “Am I doing something wrong?” I try to hide my disappointment in myself. I'm so awkward about this and second guessing everything.

Both of your hands seize either side of my face. I had no idea kisses could be so deep. Fuck, you are good at this. My mind goes blank for a moment, trying to process what’s happening. We should have done this sooner. We would have if I hadn't been such a fucking idiot.

Our clothes start to peel. Now I can smell your skin up close. I like the way your oils are mixing with mine - the combination is divine. I hope it never washes off my body… or that we do this often enough that I can keep it on me. Always.

And your body is great. I’ve always admired your strength and tone. This is the first time I am touching it though. I’m sorry that I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m kissing and waving my hands over random places. Where should I put them? I wish I were more graceful at this. You’re laughing about it… I hope that’s a good sign. 

Yeah, I’ll take the passion in your kisses as a good sign.

As you pull on my pants, I find my excitement growing. Your tongue plunges down my throat, but all I can think about is you touching my dick. You aren’t yet, and I’m a little mad about it, to be honest. Is this payback for all the times I pushed you away? Or are you simply a sadist?

I can’t do this. I can’t wait. Listen. I’m yours. Please, just take me. Emile, stop teasing me.

I push your hand in my pants. I give your elbow a nudge. I give myself to you. You know what I want.

You go down on me. I watch you slide your mouth up and down my dick. I’ve never thought to do that. I take mental notes and study because I am going to do the same thing to you. 

I can already tell I’m on edge tonight. It’s a little worrisome.

But I am blinded by your beauty. As you move, I alternate between focusing on what you’re doing and how I want to devour you myself. I guess I am watching you too hard. 

You pause and look up at me.

Are you done? 

Because I’m ready to take over.

I don’t wait for whatever you’re going to say. I’m losing it because I want to taste every part of your body now. I flip you on your back. I’m going to tease you too. 

My kisses have better direction this time. I’ve learned from a master after all. But I’ve encountered a problem - your skin is intoxicating. I could just- mmmmmwhat the fuck - I just bit you. Is that fine? It’s fine. You like it. 

Well, ok. I am going to mark every part of you. I like the way you squirm when I do it.

Your sounds, your smells. I’m fucking dying already. I want you so bad. 

You stick your fingers in my mouth. I’m not sure what it means - but I like how forceful it is. You hook me down towards your dick and put my hands there. No, fuck that. It felt better when you used your mouth, so that’s what I’m going to do.

The texture of your dick is interesting. Soft in some ways, but firm. I am intrigued by the flexibility of your foreskin. It’s actually kinda funny in my mouth. Honestly, I don’t remember what you did here, so I just suck on you. Oh. I’m hurting you. I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful, I swear.

You are saying a bunch of sweet things, but I know I suck at this. I’m sorry. I’ll get better, I promise.

At least, I hope.

I guess I’m not too bad though. You are out of breath, and your face is flushed. You seem to be enjoying this.

I’m sorry. I keep watching you because you are the most beautiful fucking person I have ever seen. 

Now I know how all your previous lovers felt. I want to see you like this again. I want to do this to you again.

I wanna fuck you.

Wait. Did I just think that? Fuck, I’m losing control.

You’re pleading with me now to switch off again. No, I’m sorry. I’m not done tasting you. Fuck, no- I’ve lost it. I’ve lost control. I can feel my body changing already. I’m digging my claws into you, and I feel your body seize up. Your wings rip out of your back. Something thick and salty fills my mouth. 

What the fuck just happened? Are we done?

I fall back on my human ass and try to figure out what to do with the cum in my mouth. You are reaching out to me, and you are so damn beautiful that I gulp it down without thinking. Your touch is magnetizing, and I want to be on you again.

I feel so drunk on you. I’m not done, but you look so tired. I guess I should wait for you to catch your breath again. You caress me so lovingly. Your hands are magic. Healing, even.

I’m so glad I came home with you tonight. I’m so glad we’re finally doing this. I’m- 

I lose my train of thought when I catch your eyes and find myself drowning in their crimson depths. Were you always this stunning? I like the way you look at me. You only look at me this way. I begin playing with your hair and think about how attractive I’ve always found it. I like every style you wear it in. I think about waking up next to you and watching you fix it every morning.

I’m sorry. Is that too romantic? I can’t help it. I’m in love.

I have a newfound appreciation for this part of your skillset. There are a lot of things I have left to learn. I have hopes I’ll learn them eventually. Your neck draws my lips to it. It’s much too long and alluring to be left alone. I take a handful of your dark hair too. It’s so easy to move you this way so that I can kiss you better.

I wonder if we will fuck tonight. Maybe I should give you a hint that I’m into it, that I won’t hold back if you try to go there. I place my hands on your hip, but you surprisingly tell me no.

I don’t fully understand why, but I’m too embarrassed to ask. I swallow my pride by kissing you down your back, but your denial gives me time to think. What if…

What if you’re trying to find a way out of this. What if you don’t want to do this at all. What if I’m not good enough for you. What if you leave me? The last thought sends me into panic. I bury my face into you. 

Don’t leave, don’t leave, don’t leave, don’t leave me. It repeats in my head over and over and over again. I am terrified I’ve become another tally on your bedpost. The shitty grin of the bartender haunts me, but I don’t care who you’ve been with - not even the demons - I... I just want to know you’ll be there for me, Emile.

I can’t articulate all of this. I’m too scared, but I’ve gotta try.

“Don’t leave me.” My voice comes out smaller than I thought it would. I'm too big to have a voice like that.

You laugh lightly. It sounds a little like disbelief, but since I can’t see your face, I can’t be sure. I don’t know if you’re considering what I said or if you’re planning an exit strategy. I worry it’s the latter.

“I wouldn’t dare,” you ultimately answer.

My heart already feels so much lighter.

Good… because… 

“I love you.” 

It slips out of my mouth so damn quick that I had no hope of stopping it. The words had been dancing on my tongue all night since the moment I ran into you at Wine-burh. But. I had no intention of saying it so casually to you. You are a god. You deserve a fanfare. I bet you would have liked that much better. 

Your body tenses in my arms, and your heartbeat quickens. I worry I am pushing you away by coming on too strong, too fast. 

But I mean it. I think you know that. 

You turn to me so I can see your face now. You look so damn cute right now. Your eyes get so big when you’re vulnerable, and I love it. But I’m terrified of your response. I start mentally preparing for rejection. I know how much you like your freedom, your privacy - that’s why I left after all.

I wait, darting between your eyes. You’re touching my face again.

Eventually, your find your voice again. “I… love you too.” 

I’m immediately overwhelmed with a thousand different feelings, but you come to me and kiss away all of the bad ones. I’m so glad it was you who dug me out of the Arena. And I thank you with a thousand more kisses.

I am a mess. I have just given up everything to be here with you tonight. You still don't know. I'll tell you eventually. I want to because there shouldn't be secrets between us.

Later, you rise and smile so devilishly. You whisper something crude to me and pull away biting your lip. I'd normally not wanna hear it, but right now it’s fucking hot.

“Wait for me,” you say, running a finger down my lips. You run that same finger down your body, and I'm getting weak. I watch you walk away from me, and I fantasize about all the things I want to do to you, and everything I want you to do to me too.

I don't think either of us are sleeping tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zeke is ace and because of his Berserker traits, he focuses on sight and smells over what he physically feels! Just an fyi!

**Author's Note:**

> First of all - THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! 
> 
> This is my first time posting here on AO3! I don’t know a whole lot about this website or tagging, so if you have suggestions about relevant tags I should use for better visibility, please feel free to let me know! Also - feel free to leave me comments!! I thrive on discussing my works, so I’m begging you to engage!!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed your read!! ^^


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